Doppelgänger
by IamOneWithTheForce
Summary: Death has always been a normal thing for the scientists at the Jeffersonian Institute. That is, until a person from Zircon Hawthorn's past shows up on the bone table, revealing a long-kept secret from the depths of his mind. How will he confront the dexholders? And why does Ruby believe that this person is not actually dead?
1. It can't be

**This, people, is another one of the absurdly unnatural concoctions that my mind has dreamed up. I have watched an unhealthy amount of Bones and decided that this would be a fun project to work on. Basically a crossover between Bones and Pokemon Adventures. Will overlap over some of my other stories. Enjoy.**

 **I am not from America, so my knowledge of the landscape there will be limited to just extensive research. If I've gotten something wrong, please PM me and I will sort it out.**

 **Also, the logic of murder is very confusing, and I don't study forensic anthropology professionally, so I will try my best to portray this as accurately as possible. Again, PM me if you find something that doesn't make sense or if I've gotten something wrong. The events in this story probably happen immediately before or after season 12.**

 **I also lowered the ages of the characters, so there wouldn't be a 20 year age gap between the oldest and the youngest.**

Chapter one: It can't be

A familiar ringing sound echoed through the otherwise dark and quiet apartment downtown in D.C. It reached the ears of a certain young man in his late twenties, who was sprawled on the bed, breathing softly.

"Ughhhh…" One Zircon Hawthorn groaned. It was five O'clock in the morning and it was clearly no time to be woken up. He grabbed the cell phone, resisting every impulse to chuck the annoyance out of the window and into the streets below.

 _Who the hell would ring my phone at this ungodly hour? It's five in the morning, for Arceus' sake! Even advertisers wouldn't call this early!_

Raising it to his ear, he was tempted to yell every single curse word he knew, be it in English or not, into the ear of the unknown caller. "Is this Dr Hawthorn from the Jeffersonian Institue?" A voice said from the other end. Zircon sat up suspiciously, eyes narrowing. He didn't normally go around parading his profession as a Forensic Anthropologist."Yes, this is." He replied.

"I am sorry to have disturbed you, but I am an Officer from the local police. A body was found washed up on Bethany beach this morning, and the FBI told us to contact the Jeffersonian." Zircon visibly relaxed. "Thank you, Officer." The Officer hung up, and Zircon stood up, tossing the phone onto the bed. It landed with a soft 'thump'. Sleep could wait. Now, to solve another case. He changed into his normal work clothes, taking the Jeffersonian jumpsuit out of the closet and stuffing it into his backpack, along with his phone, the blue LED flashlight, a sandwich, and a small notebook and pen. Slinging the bag over his shoulder, he looked back at his bedroom, trying to see if he had left anything. He spotted the lone ultra ball sitting on his bedside table, and picked it up, looking at the sleeping psychic pokemon inside.

 _No time to be thinking about the old life, Zircon. Just grab Mewtwo and go. It takes around three hours to get to Bethany beach, anyway._

He shoved the ultra ball into his pants pocket, and grabbing his keys, he left the apartment with a soft click.

Zircon groaned as he hit another stoplight. At this rate, it would take him another hour to get to the beach. He would be lucky if he got there before eight. Hopefully, the team had already booked a hotel to stay in for the next one or two nights, depending on how long they needed to excavate the remains. Then afterwards, they would bring it all back to the Jeffersonian to conduct further investigations.

The stoplight turned yellow and he put his foot on the gas pedal.

It blinked once before shifting into a green colour. He sighed, driving along the road. Why did he feel like something bad was going to happen? Why did he constantly think about home? _These thoughts are irrational right now. You need to think about the upcoming case, and how you're going to solve it._

"Female."

"Caucasian."

"Presence of wisdom teeth indicate she was over the age of 18."

"Bone markers indicate approximate age of late-twenties to early thirties." Brennan looked over the bones.

They were currently standing over the skeleton (or what was left of it) that was found on the beaches in the early morning. Everyone was dressed in blue Jeffersonian hazmat suits.

"She also seems to have suffered blunt force trauma to the head." Zircon analyzed, rubbing some sand off of the skull with his gloved hand. "Is that cause of death?" Booth asked them, carrying cups of coffee in his hands, setting it on an empty table nearby.

"No, it's too early to tell. We cannot know for sure until I get back to the lab." Brennan answered him, raising her head to glance at her husband. "We'll also need some sand samples for Hodgins." "He said he was too lazy to come all the way out here." Zircon stated, not looking up from the bones. "Mhm." Booth nodded. He looked around, seeing that someone was missing. "Hey, where's Aubrey?"

Cam peered up from the remains. "He said he'll be arriving a bit later than usual." As if said person could read her mind, Aubrey came jogging down from the pier, ducking below the yellow tape surrounding the premise and walking over to them.

He was holding a smoothie in one hand and a hot dog in another. Brennan looked at Aubrey, then back at Booth. "I believe the correct expression will be 'speak of the devil'." Booth smiled. "You finally got that right, Bones."

Zircon stood up from the sand, looking at Aubrey. "Hey, what took you so long?" Aubrey shifted uncomfortably. "Uhh…" Realization dawned on the young forensic anthropologist. "Ohhhh...I get it now." He shot a sly smirk at the agent, who looked pleadingly back at him. Cam noticed this exchange and cleared her throat. "Ahem." They both snapped back to her, with Booth chuckling softly in the background.

"Whoa." Aubrey noticed the remains of the currently unidentified dead person. "This must be the cleanest job we've gotten." "And also the hardest yet," Cam remarked. "This body was washed up from a foreign country, so that means there will be a less chance of identifying the victim." "The saltwater has also dehydrated most what was left of the human tissue on the body," Brennan noted, placing some smaller pieces of bone fragments into Petri dishes. "We'll have to do this with what we have." Zircon mentioned. "We've solved tougher cases."

At the Jeffersonian…

"Hey sweetie, I just finished the facial reconstructions of the skull." Angela stepped up on the forensic platform, where they were doing further investigations of the bones. "Oh." Brennan put the bone down on the table and pulling off her gloves, throwing them into the trash. Zircon did the same, and they followed Angela back to her office, where she had pulled up the reconstruction onto the screen of the Angelatron. They looked at the unsmiling picture of the young woman shown on the screen. She had brown hair and deep blue eyes. His eyes narrowed in thought, feeling a sense of deja vu wash over him.

Where had he seen this person from? _Wait a minute... it can't be... no way..._ "That's impossible…" Angela had never seen Zircon this shook up before. The victim must have been someone he knew. Brennan also noticed this. "Dr Hawthorn? Did you know the victim?" Not turning from the screen, he nodded slowly. "I haven't seen her in years. I'd never expected to see her end up like this."

His mind was going haywire.

How would they react when he told them? More specifically, how would _that person_ react? Although having spent a small amount of time with them, he knew she meant a lot to the dexholders. How was he going to tell them? He had no idea what they would do.

"Hey, Hawthorn?" Angela waved her hand in front of his face. "Are you okay?" Zircon mentally pinched himself. "Yeah, I'm fine." "Can you tell us who the victim was?" Brennan gently probed. He sighed. "Her name is Sapphire. Sapphire Birch."


	2. Time is not a good thing

Chapter 2: Time is not a good thing

This was not the way he had expected to meet them again. He hadn't exactly parted on good terms with the dexholders. Why Sapphire, though? She was the toughest person he had met. You didn't kill Sapphire Birch that easily. If you threw all of them on an island with nothing but their clothes and a bottle of water, She would be the one who would be the most likely one to survive. There was… something odd about this situation. He couldn't place it, but it just seemed so… weird.

To think that the body would have floated all the way from the regions to such a specific place, here in D.C. It could have drifted to any other place in the world that was not here. The killer _wanted_ them to find it. Whoever killed her _wanted_ the Jeffersonian to find it.

* * *

"Cam, can you do me a favour? It's about the body." Zircon stood in Dr Camille Saroyan's office, clasping a file in his hands. She looked up at him from the computer. "Sure, what can I do for you?" He let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding in. "If anyone wearing a black suit and says they're from the Interpol and asking about the body comes here, do not let them in, especially if that person is Superintendent Lack-two."

Cam's eyes narrowed.

"That seems oddly specific."

"Please, Cam. You know I knew the victim. This will make things easier for us." He pleaded. She sighed. "Fine. But only because I'm your boss and I don't like people like that." "Thank you so much." Zircon turned and headed back to the bone room, where the bones were already clean and placed there for further examination. He pulled on medical gloves and looked inside, surprised that Brennan was already standing there, analyzing the bones. "Dr Hawthorn. You're late." He nodded. "Yes, Dr Brennan."

He walked over to where she was standing. "There seem to be fractured on the knuckles. What do you make of it?" She handed him the small bone, and he peered at them closely. "They seem to be defensive wounds. The victim fought back before she was killed." She took the bone back from him, looking at it. "I concur, Dr Hawthorn. These fractures are indeed defensive wounds." He stepped over to the folder laying on a separate table and recorded the wound on the file. He turned back to his senior. "Dr Brennan?" She looked up. "Yes, Dr Hawthorn?" "Has Booth told the family yet?" Brennan tilted her head to the side. "No, not yet. We are still trying to find out where they live." "Well… I know where they live, as I myself has been there. I could take you there." Zircon offered.

"That would most certainly be useful." Brennan agreed, nodding. "I will inform booth of this improvement." She dropped the gloves in a trash can near the wall, and then strode out of the bone room, leaving Zircon standing there with his dead former colleague.

* * *

"So how do you get to these 'regions' of yours?" Booth leaned back on his chair, his legs propped up on his desk. Zircon looked at him. "You can't just go there. You need specific transport, as it is located in a completely different world." Booth sat back up on the office chair. "Hold up. You're saying the body came from a completely different world?" "Yes, hence the fact that I think the body was planted." "There is no physical evidence that proves the existence of different worlds," Brennan interjected. "Bones, just let him talk." Booth sighed. She glared at him. "Then how did you come here?" Booth questioned, clasping his hands together and placing them on his desk.

Zircon smirked, knowing the question would come sooner or later. He reached inside his pocket, his fingers curling around a familiar round object. He tugged it out and tossed it towards the floor. There was a flash of blinding light and a bipedal, humanoid creature with some feline-like features appeared.

"Mewtwo, teleport."

The pokemon obliged, and there was a bright wave of light that engulfed them. When it subsided, they were no longer in Booth's office in the Hoover building downtown D.C. Instead, blades of grass materialized around them, and they appeared to be in some sort of forest. "What the-" Booth gazed at his surroundings. "What did you do?!" Zircon just shrugged nonchalantly. "You asked me where I came from. I merely brought you here. Welcome to the Viridian Forest." Brennan looked around incredulously. "This...this is impossible! Teleporting defies the basic fundamental laws of the universe and physics! This must be an optical illusion!"

Zircon tilted his head towards the side in thought. "Is it, Doctor Brennan? Look around, and touch the grass. I assure you, this is no magic trick. Not a lot is impossible in this world. It simply has not been discovered. Come on, we have to get there on time." He turned on his heel and strode through the dense undergrowth, Booth and Brennan following behind.

They continued through the grass in silence. Brennan observed, impressed by the sheer scale of the Viridian Forest. Suddenly, there was a small rustling sound in one of the bushes they had passed through, and a small yellow mass sprang out from the grass toward them. "What is that?" Booth and Brennan both exclaimed. He drew his weapon and aimed it at the creature, and fired at it point blank. There was a large 'BANG!" and said yellow mass slumped to the ground. They all looked at the now dead yellowish thing and realized that it was some sort of yellow mouse. "Incredible! This isn't like any other species we've seen on earth!" Brennan blurted, kneeling forward to examine the dead animal. "It's a pikachu, an electric mouse. This one was probably sleeping when you disturbed it. They can get quite angry at times." Zircon added. Booth sighed. "Come on, Bones, we have a murder to solve."

He tugged her to her feet, before following ZIrcon and continuing down the path. They reached a red coloured house, and several laughs were heard from it. "Welcome to Pallet Town." Zircon gestured around him. _I haven't been here in quite a while._ "Whoa. _This_ is a town?" Booth's eyes widened. "It can't have more than nine or ten houses!" "This place _is_ small, after all. Not like D.C." "So is this the house?" He asked, looking at the younger man. Zircon nodded. Booth reached out to knock before Zircon pulled his hand back. "You should let me talk to them. I knew them the best." Booth started to protest, but Brennan stepped in and grabbed her husband's arm. "Booth." She stared him down, her stormy grey eyes never wavering. He blinked and sighed dramatically. "Fine." "Thank you." He raised his hand and rapped his knuckles against the hard wooden door. Once, twice, three times. The laughing and chattering inside the house grew quiet, and a voice said "Red, answer the door. It's your house." The sound of footsteps drew closer to their location, and the door swung open, revealing a young man of late twenties with spiky black hair and crimson eyes.

"Hello, Red."


End file.
